Bless You
by Plain Schizodreamer
Summary: Achoo!" Ron caught a cold after a midnight of watching over Hermione who had slept on her work at the Gryffindor common room.


**Author's Note: **I have edited the story. Hope you all will enjoy! This is my first R/Hr fluff…I have also continued the story because I can't come up with a confrontation that would take long enough to be called "another chapter." Thanks for all those who have reviewed!! I really appreciate them. More reviews please.

**Bless you**

_by __Berde  
_

**Disclaimer**: JKR owns Harry Potter and all other characters. I'm only a fan in love with Ron Weasley! I'm R/Hr shipper, and I respect Harry…hehehe...Don't sue me...I'm yet unemployed! :p

"_Nox_." Ron Weasley whispered and the vivid light from the tip of his wand disappeared. He had just checked his watch and found out it was already three in the morning. He sat up from his four-poster as it creaked for the _nth_ time in two hours--the period he has been desperately trying to get to sleep, but apparently failed. He inspected the corners of the room only to envy the peaceful figures of the three other boarders.

He had already slumbered and was awaken for some reasons he could not figure out. He didn't remember having a dream, and when he attempted to go back to his snooze the shaft of light peeping barely through the narrow space between their dormitory door and the floor held his trance. "_Hermione_?" he wondered for a time. Deciding he can't have a lie-down Ron got up, and walked to the glow from the thin, long, horizontal line at the foot of the doorway, then out as if following its source.

He stopped midway on the stairs down the Gryffindor common room and examined the area--the back of the lengthy couch settled across the fireplace and the equally extensive table between them, pile of library books still on the board with the familiar notebooks, parchments, quills and bottles of ink. They would have looked messy but were arranged in a strangely smart fashion. He could not see Hermione Granger though, or anyone for that matter, but everything on _their_ study place was sign of her. There was no doubt she was still working and Ron found this amusing and ridiculous at the same time. He shook his head on how he could still have both feelings on such an indubitably habitual Hermione-nature when he had known about _that_ for five continual years. He remembered himself and Harry bidding her goodnight by thirty minutes past ten that night; Hermione said she was just to add the _last_ part on her Arithmancy essay, but then, a widely read like her would probably make two parchments long for a _part_ of a composition.

Ron continued on his track to the spot where Hermione should be and wondered on his way where she could have gone. It was surprising how he came up with conclusions on his query in the shortest span of time. _Maybe she went back to the library for some more books_--that's barking stupid, he thought. Hermione could be that _mad_ to work nonstop but Madam Pince would sure do with a rest like normal; _Maybe she went to get a glass of water, or milk, or anything_--but that would be disturbing the house elves, if they do sleep at all; _Maybe she got tired and decided to go up the girl's dormitory and slept_. Then he reconsidered, _without even tidying up_?--not likely Hermione; _Maybe she indeed went up to get something and fell asleep_--that could happen; _Maybe she heard him coming and she's hiding to fright him_. Ron grinned as the picture of this scene played on his mind. He raised an eyebrow and answered himself, _No. That would be me_.

He absently ran his hands through his messy hair, lost in deep thoughts of other assumptions and he was rather enjoying it. Being up past two in the morning, in the common room, on his pajamas, and thinking of Hermione--that was just something he had never done before. Ron had thought about his other bestfriend during the holidays, during classes, during meals, during study hours, during prefect duties, during Quidditch practices, during chess games, before going to sleep, after waking up, he had even dreamt about her--though he couldn't figure out why she's often on his head even when most of those times she's just in front of him. He never really bothered to fathom the reasons, yet, he made a mental note on his mind to try _this one_ again some other time.

Ron started when something at the far corner of the hearth purred. It was Crookshanks and he knew at once that Hermione was still inside the room. He turned his head rapidly at every angle of the place only to find a bushy brown head lying serenely at the couch that was then barely under his nose. _And so she never left, but did fall asleep_. A warm smirk formed on his face as the tip of his ears grew a shade of pink gradually evolving to a deeper tinge of red assumed from the color of his eminent Weasley hair. He felt his heart swell while watching her but vaguely kicked the strange sensation creeping to his insides and was automatically replaced by sudden curiosity.

For a moment, Ron hesitated, but rounded Hermione's sleeping cradle until he halted between her and the table. He bent downwards, both his hands set on his knees for support, then looked from his fellow prefect to her unfinished work on the desk more than a few times with a playful smile.

"And what do _you_ think _you're_ doing?" he said almost in a whisper, "sleeping on your homework?" He couldn't help snorting as he tried a parody of the bossy tone she often uses on him and Harry whenever she would _oblige_ them to study with her, "Didn't _you_ know, N.E.W.T.s are _seven_ months away?" he added feeling satisfied that he had gotten his _'Hermione impression_' flawlessly, particularly when he brought the N.E.W.T.s countdown.

True to the character he was mocking, Hermione, as she has always been, would constantly remind everyone about the upcoming exams. She did this every term, and most earnestly during last year, which was their fifth, about the O.W.L.s. That would have still annoyed Ron, but seeing as it somehow diverge their _Voldemort_ worries to something else, he had decided to tolerate it. Although things were quite passive since the incident at the Ministry of Magic last term, there were hardly news about the Dark Lord's whereabouts; Death Eaters and Dark Marks remain unspotted and these facts were suspicious enough to fret anyone even with the absence of violence.

Without feeling the need to mull over those qualms right then, Ron, without tearing his stare from the sleeping form, sank to the floor with his knees across his chest. He did a little, but noiseless, body twisting to fit into the little space, and when he was done, he observed her face once more.

"You have an ink on your nose, by the way, did _you_ know?" he told her, not minding if she couldn't hear him at all.

She did have a black smudge on the tip of her nose, and Ron could only imagine how his own dirt looked like back in the train that was to take him to Hogwarts for the first time. He remembered how infuriated he was with her for noticing and felt regretful that he could only guess her reaction with his last statement, unless he should find her again with a mark on the same spot. He mentally noted to watch out for that.

Feeling his heartbeat race at the site of her, the young man decided to check on the abandoned work that had kept his friend. "Let's see here…" he began moving things on the table, but missing the mountain of books on one side. There were, however, three open books he couldn't avoid. All of which were _Arithmancy_'s. He didn't have to check on each since he knew she was working on that subject, even particularly eager on it, with the many times she told them it is her favorite. He lifted the compilation of parchments, "You're done, eh?" he returned his gaze on her, "Honestly, Hermione. If you keep on tiring yourself for a project that isn't due until the end of term, I reckon you're gonna crack up."

Of course, there was no reply, and he would considerably have it that way, than listen to her unending argument, which were mostly logical making that he wouldn't have a chance to deviate, which he does just to madden her and see her flush.

Realizing then that her work still misses the usual annotations, he beamed. "I can help you." He announced to her. "But--" he added abruptly as if she was going to protest, "--if I do your work and let _you_ sleep, how would you learn?"

It was again as if hearing Hermione talk to him when he asks her if he could copy or even look at her assignments.

"Heh. Now I know why you always say that." It did make Ron feel _clever_ like the witch in front of him, though he didn't really have any idea how to be of help on her footnotes as he didn't know what the essay was all about in the first place. He did not even enroll on that subject to have a bit of a hint.

He nearly jumped when Hermione moved from the couch. Instead, he stopped still and anticipated her rousing. It didn't happen. Hermione shifted her head to another position not nearly altered from her previous one, but a line formed on her lips. It was as if she was dreaming of something pleasant.

"And who would think you're _that_ bossy?" he marveled on the smile-like form on her lips. "You look like an innocent, harmless eleven-year-old." Then there was an urge to touch the corner of her smile, just to know if it was real. "But even as an eleven-year-old, you've already been scary, y'know--", he continued on an undertone and trailed off as his shaking hand slowly approached her skin. "--the only difference is that..you don't really look like that age..well..you're a _lot_ beautiful for an eleven-year-old." With his long arms, Ron's hand shortly found her cheek instead. He felt his face growing warm.

_Beautiful_. How could he ever think of such thing about her? But she was, indeed, beautiful. Even when her hair was muddled behind her head, or her cheeks and lips were pale, both missing the rose-pink shades; even when her deep conversing brown eyes were invisible behind her closed lids, or there were bags forming under them; even when there was a black speck on her nose..

However, before he could absorb the fact that he was probably half-way to going magenta because of the inexplicable beauty the face in front of him revealed, the draftiness of her skin against his slithered to Ron's senses. "_Blimey_! You're cold!"

Fire was still burning on the grate. It was cold, of course, as it was already the first week of December. Ron looked out the window at the other end of the common room, partly expecting that snow started falling. It has not, but he felt cold as well and goose bumps showed on his skin. He restored his look on Hermione and assumed to make her warm. He stood up and made long strides to the girl's dormitory, when it occurred to him that the last time he attempted to go up, he heard a loud shriek and he was thrown back the ground. Waking everybody up with that stupidity would certainly not help on keeping Hermione comfortable, so he directed himself to the boy's dormitory instead.

After not so long, Ron returned with his robe already wrapped around his body, and clutching on both hands he had his Gryffindor-colored wool blanket and pillow. He marched sneakily between the couch and the table once more and carefully placed the pillow under Hermione's bushy head, "Here you go," he said as he laid the blanket to cover her. He sat again, just how he was seated a while ago.

"Well--" Ron started after he has settled on his position. Talking to a sleeping Hermione seemed to be enjoyable "I don't know what I could do to help…and I'm not gonna wake you up." He said thoughtfully.

Ron knew quite well that Hermione wouldn't like to find out she had slept over her work, with him finding this out and not waking her would surely ignite flame. He also knew too well how Hermione had been working twofold or more. She always seem to find too many a thing to worry about aside from their usual school works, prefect duties, and Harry--she has S.P.E.W., tutoring lessons with the lower years, and extra credits. He wished _bloody_ Vicky wouldn't add up to Hermione's troubles as he was owling her, rather, more mails than usual. Although Viktor Krum's letters hardly give Hermione any problem match up to Ron who always finds way to bicker with her, he just hated the Bulgarian's guts since the Yule Ball. That was another story all together and all Ron could remember about it right then was how _different_ Hermione was.

His hand was on her cheek again, but Ron chose to believe that it got there because he was checking if she was still cold--and she was not anymore. But the urge was there again and it wasn't pushing him to touch the corner of her lips. His heart was thumping against his chest as if it was going to beat out of it. The sensation was getting stronger. It was willing him to draw his face closer to her, to lock his lips with hers. The tepid feeling amidst the cold season amazingly felt right. At the heart of its indifference, it seemed familiar. Ron was not withdrawing despite his knowledge that it was taking advantage, that he would want this whilst she was awake, when she could return his feelings, when she could react- kiss him back or slap him, either way, he wanted to be fair with her. Still, he could not move himself but towards her.

There was a sound and sudden movement. Ron wasn't able to help himself from jerking. He thought for a while that his heart was out his chest. He looked down the floor, not sure, if he was seeking for it on the carpet only to find Crookshanks purring on his feet and giving him a disgusted look.

"_You_." He glared back. He was yelling both at Hermione's cat and at himself. He wanted to hate Crookshanks for ruining the moment, but he mentally kicked himself for even thinking about it. The ginger cat continued to hiss at him, "Shut up." He ordered in a low and livid tone, perhaps afraid it would wake Hermione up. She did move a little. "I'm not gonna do _that_ ok?!" his voice was adamant. He realized Crookshanks couldn't tell Hermione what he almost did but he carried on explaining, "I was just--I was—just--looking—Er--if she's still cold.." he snapped.

Crookshanks narrowed his eyes on Ron and walked back to his spot. He kept his stare on the boy who had turned crimson, as if challenging him another move. He hissed again warningly.

"Shut. Up." Ron commanded. _Why does a cat have to be so clever_? He thought irately and swallowed a large lump on his throat before returning his eyes on Hermione. _Yeah. Yeah. Clever as you are, alright_. He reflected, addressing to her quiescent form. He didn't dare rest his gaze at her any long. He scanned the table for something better to do, and found none. He fixed his eyes on the fire instead and got engrossed on it for a while.

When his eyes got tired, Ron finally admitted to himself that there's nothing good for him to do. He sighed, then yawned. Crookshanks caught his attention when it made a noise that for Ron was a taunting sound. He pulled his tongue out on the cat and lazily picked one book from the stack. He opened it and flipped the pages frenziedly but careful enough not to tear a page. He stopped and considered, closed the book and smiled as he found out he had just opened _Hogwarts, A History_. Crookshanks watched him apprehensively. No, he was not going to read it, so he placed it back. He seemed to have decided to give himself a rest.

He pulled his long legs up for a stretch and caught the old-fashioned grandfather clock on top of the fireplace. It was already five in the morning. He turned around enough to notice the start of snowfall and his familiar lopsided grin broke into his jaws. "Snowballs fight later, eh, Hermione? It's Saturday anyway." He suggested. His companion was still too sound asleep to respond. The other companion hissed and he gave it a sideways look, then back to the school items filled table. "She wouldn't want me messing about her papers, won't she? I behaved, didn't I?" he said to himself but loud enough for anyone to hear, if there was someone at the room, that is. "And I've opened your dearly loved book, that's something, eh, Hermione?" he told her again and yawned.

"You." He addressed to Crookshanks. "Wake her up before someone else does." he prompted the cat what he thought it already knew. The common room usually gets filled by seven in the morning, but there would always be someone who wakes up earlier than usual.

Crookshanks moved from his place and walked towards where Hermione was, Ron stopped him, "--not now, _nutter_! She'll see _me_..you want me killed?--she'd be _mad_ I let her sleep in here, on her work, and even _watched_ her." Crookshanks seemed not to mind him at all. It looked to Ron that he would enjoy the idea of Hermione killing him. Ron glared at the cat again, "--as _you_ did too, let her sleep." Hermione's pet walked past him, brushing his furry body against his legs, then leapt to the table and curled itself. "But, really, you have to agree though, she did need that rest." He bowed to pat his new partner on the head and picked him up to his chest. Carrying the ginger cat, he stepped forward Hermione again. "Look at the bags under her eyes--she won't give it a rest." He added and let Crookshanks go after a moment.

"I'll leave you now. Wake her up when you feel like it--at least let me into my room first--" Ron walked back to the boy's dormitory, stopped midway to smile at Crookshanks, "--and well--unfortunately, you can't report to her, can't you? Say, it's our little secret then, eh?" he widened his smile, "I'll let you have my milk later, ok?--if I'd wake up before lunch-that is--." And he disappeared.

Not long, Crookshanks, probably hearing noises upstairs, jumped to Hermione and licked her ears. She woke up immediately and stroked her cat's strangely familiar ginger hair.

"Morning." She said sleepily. She meant it for her cat but another voice greeted back.

"Morning, 'Mione."

Hermione froze. It was Harry Potter's voice, _and what in Merlin's world was he doing there_? "Harry?" it was more of shriek and the boy's head who had just popped above her jerked away confusedly. "You're _not_ supposed to be here..it's the.." but he cut her off.

"Slept well, have you?"

"Honestly, Harry, what are you doing here at the girl's dormitory? How did you even get in? I didn't hear anything…" and she trailed off as she had gathered herself and realized where she was. "Oh, no." she said almost breathlessly. Hermione completely forgot about Harry when she came to another realization about her _Arithmancy_ project. "Oh, no." she repeated and dashed to the table where she picked up her parchments and studied her almost-done essay and frowned.

"Slept on it?" Hermione sleeping on her work was something new to Harry. He held his snort and noted to tell Ron first thing when he gets up so they could share the laugh.

She remained on her seat and only turned to give him a reproachful look but changed her mind as she put on a wry smile, "Yeah. Well, I'm almost done anyway. Just annotations to add."

"I thought you said that's not due by the end of term. What's the point on getting it done so early?" Harry absently kept the conversation as he marched to the window to marvel at the falling crystals.

She watched him, silently thankful that Harry was getting less distressed in the past weeks. She noticed the snowfall, and wondered if Christmas would be something to look forward to. It has always been for her. It has for Harry since he stepped at Hogwarts. Last year was different with all the _Voldemort_ reservations. However, it would definitely be another this year, with the same fears, but with Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, missing.

Hermione shove her worries. Not then when Harry was already pulling himself together. She replied casually, "As N.E.W.T.s are also due by the end of term. That wouldn't be pretty good to have a _lot_ of works collide at a time. And to _think_ that the end of term is just.." she was cut off again.

"--_seven_ months away, thank you." He turned wearing a wide grin. "Snowball fight later, Hermione?" He realized she has a black something at the tip of her nose, and it reminded Harry of Ron during their first journey at the train to Hogwarts. The memory made his grin wider.

Although she didn't like the game too much, and knowing that the snow had just started falling and there wouldn't be enough yet for such a game, she replied excitedly, "Sure. It's Saturday anyway. I think we could do with a snowball fight." returning his grin. It was one of Harry's very few invitations for an amusement after a long while, and he looked thrilled about it. "No Fred and George to help Ron gang up on me this time." she added in a wink.

The three Weasleys were playfully mean on her during a game that ended up with Hermione stomping away and Ron running after her. It was the first and last time she ever had a snowball fight with the twins, and it took a while of Ginny Weasley's convincing before she joined one with Ron.

"Anyway, Harry. Why are you up this early? And how long have you been here? Not watching me sleep, haven't you?" she asked hastily.

"No. I heard the dormitory door shut and creaks on someone's four-poster. I thought someone's already up, but all three of them were in deep sleep, so I went down, then I heard you greet, so I greeted back." He settled himself at the chair by the window, "It's good though you thought of bringing down a blanket, it's freezing cold."

"Yeah. Well--" she clutched the wool to her chest, and brought the end to her nose. She loved the scent of it. It smelled like summer. The smell of the sun in the middle of the winter season was bizarre but sensational. Then paused when she remembered, "--but I didn't…"

Harry did not let her continue after glancing at his watch, "Anyway, the others might be up soon. You wouldn't want to be found out still wearing yesterday's clothes." He remarked beaming.

Remembering that, as well, Hermione collected herself. She arranged the books neatly on the table and put the other things back to her bag, folded the blanket, clutched it and the pillow against her chest, and stormed up. Crookshanks followed suit. Harry watched them flee and remembered that he forgot to tell her about the dirt on her nose.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville Longbottom went back to the common room after breakfast at the Great Hall, while almost all students have headed outside to play their Saturday with the snow, although it hasn't covered much of Hogwarts' grounds yet. Gryffindor common room was not left deserted as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan have just treaded down from the boy's dormitory.

"Not have gone out the snow?" Dean asked incredulously. "Semus and I will.. after we have breakfast."

"I'll go with you. I'll change and meet you at the Great Hall." Neville stormed up the room.

Seamus was tying the lace of his winter boots as Dean waited for him by the portrait hole. "What's for breakfast anyway?" he asked the newcomers, "If it's not that good, we can skip it Dean." He added to the boy standing not far him.

"Hot chocolates are served instead of milk, and a _lot_ of croissants." Ginny answered as she slouched herself on the couch. "Anyway, is my brother still asleep?"

"Sound." Seamus replied, "What do you think about breakfast?" he addressed to Dean at the portrait hole.

"Skip it." Dean answered as if there was no point asking. "Let's go and get Neville." And they headed up their room.

Hermione settled herself beside Ginny, "Growing a bit lazy for a snowy Saturday, is he?"

"I'll go wake him up." Harry followed his roommates' direction without waiting for a reply. He hasn't gone half the stairs to the dormitory when Ron showed up.

"Bloody_ colnd mornig, isd id_?" He descended and parked himself to the seat nearest the fire. He grinned at the scandalized look on Hermione's face he knew she would have on after hearing him swear first thing in the morning. But this reaction didn't stay long at the sight of Ron's cherry nose. "_Achoo_!" his eyes blinked at this.

Hermione wore a face of sheer amusement. She had _never_ seen Ron with a cold before, rather, she had never seen _anyone_ at Hogwarts with a cold before. For the past five years they had attended the wizardry school, she had only seen students getting a dragon bite, falling off a broom, hurling slugs, breaking bones, losing bones, being petrified, growing front teeth triple its size, being hit by dangerous spells, and more, but never catching a cold. It was indeed amusing.

"You better go to Madam Pomfrey." She heard Harry suggest. "How could you catch cold anyway, none of us have. I reckon, none have _ever_ had." he added thoughtfully.

"_Whad _are you_ laughig ad_? _Nod ondly _muggles_ cad _catch a cold, _y'dow_."

Hermione laughed loud, and much to Ron's annoyance, the other two joined.

"How could he not catch a cold?" Seamus' voice broke in. The three Gryffindors came in line and walked to the door. "Sleeping without _blankets_, honestly." He chuckled.

"Forget the blankets, he didn't even have his _pillow_!" Dean barked.

"What's wrong if he doesn't have his pillow?" Hermione queried; Suspicions building up her mind.

"Well, Ron couldn't sleep without any. He'd _kill_ for a pillow." Ginny giggled.

"I--" Ron was taken aback at the sight of Hermione in deep thoughts.

"Where are your sheet and pillow, anyway?" Neville asked innocently.

"I--" Ron repeated. He couldn't make his head think of a cover story as it throb at the sound of more laughter.

Harry smiled broadly as if Christmas has just come. For the past months, there was finally something to genuinely smile about. Not a put-up smile that was to stop his friends from worrying, but somewhat a bit of the _point_ he remembered he got that Hermione impelled and Ron completely missed. It seemed that Ron hadn't fully overlooked it at all.

"You didn't go giving them to _someone_ asleep and cold, didn't you?" Harry teased. A tease that he knew only three people among the crowd would get.

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry. Hermione gave Ron a sideways glance, Ron kept his glaring eyes on Harry, and Crookshanks leapt to Ron's lap and purred.

"I--" Ron began again. "--_Achoo_!" and ended.

"_Bless You, Ron_." Hermione said softly, almost inaudibly. Her cheeks turned pink and Ron's ears had the color of his nose.

Harry and Ginny chorused with Hermione on her statement. Ron's sister said it with concerned tone, while Harry with a meaningful one.

"_Whad_.." Ron's freckles became more visible against his crimson face.

"Yeah, bless you." Seamus uttered musingly wearing an expression of having remembered something grand. "A muggle cousin of mine from the West, said those words are said to someone who had sneezed. Any idea about what he said the reason is, anyone?" he paused to look at the expectant faces before him. Pleased that Hermione was somehow too occupied to answer, he continued, "Well, because when we sneeze, our heart stops beating for a second."

"Yeah. I heard about that. I think it's a sweet thing to say, isn't it?" Ginny nodded at him.

Dean snorted, "Does it mean we could die from sneezing?" he said mockingly.

"It's just an expression, Dean. Honestly. I think it's true. And _besides_, why do you think these three said it to Ron?" addressing to Harry, Ginny, and Hermione. "They wouldn't _thank_ him for sneezing, would they?" Seamus walked to the portrait hole with Dean trailing behind.

"Well, yeah--maybe--it's also used for '_good luck_' isn't it? Maybe it could mean, '_good luck on your life_'." Dean's scoff and Seamus' laughter finally got out of earshot.

"Well, go to the hospital wing, mate. See you lot later." Neville cried as he ran after his other fellow Gryffindors.

"_Achoo_!" Ron broke the silence. Crookshanks jumped away from him and leapt to Hermione's lap instead.

"Bless you." Ginny got up from her seat. "And I didn't mean that to wish you luck.." she winked, "..or thank you." she giggled, "Madam Pomfrey would definitely end that in less than a minute." she headed to the portrait hole. "I'm meeting up someone outside. See you three later."

"_Nod_ another _Corder, isd id_?" Ron scowled at her.

"Honestly, Ron. I'd like to remind you anyway, to mind your _own_ love affair.." she rolled her eyes, "..if you'll have one, which you will..I mean, which you already _do_, but.." she chuckled at the look of her glowing brother. "I'll see you then, later."

"_Ha—Ah--_" Ron suppressed the coming sneeze. "I'm_ goig do _the_ hospidal wink dow. _I'll catch you_ la-der_." he marched to the hole briskly, not taking a chance to glance at Hermione. He was aware how glowing bright red his face was.

She knows. "--_Achoo_!" he finally let one out when the door shut behind him.

"A cold!" he heard the fat lady said in a surprised tone.

"Yeah, _bless you_, Ron." he said to himself. _How would things be when you come back from the hospital wing_?

"_Achoo_!" his head vibrated as the sound he made echoed through the empty hallway.

Ron was anxious on returning to the common room to meet Harry and Hermione. They both already knew what he did, and there was no way he could deny it. He took a deep breath before pronouncing the password, and the Fat Lady let him in. To his surprise, the Gryffindor common room was empty.

_They must have gone to play outside._ He thought, and decided to follow. What he didn't understand was why his feet, instead of walking back to the portrait hole, marched itself up the dormitory. He started when he realized the door to their room was open, he walked in anyway.

It seemed that time suddenly stopped. Since he had found his gaze locked with a pair if hazel brown eyes, he hadn't moved an inch…Maybe it was only for a minute or two but to Ron, it seemed forever.

"Are you okay now?" Hermione asked while fidgeting with the end of her sweater.

Though he still felt rigid, he forced his jaws to speak. "Yeah." He swallowed hard.

"I…Well…Sorry about your cold." She tucked an invisible strand of her hair behind her ears. "I brought your sheet and pillow. Thanks for lending me." She added shyly, her cheeks turning pink.

"Oh." He replied, "Well…er…don't mention it…I mean…What are friends for?" he said trying hard not to stutter. His ears were red as his hair.

"Oh. Right." She sounded disappointed. "Thanks anyway."

_Stupid! Stupid! That was a chance!_ Ron mentally kicked himself. "Yeah." Was his another stupid reply.

"Harry's waiting at the Great Hall…We reckon you should have breakfast first before we play snowball fight." She straightened and made an effort of sounding excited.

"Snowball fight?! You up to it?" he asked surprised.

She beamed. "Well…winter only comes once a year, so might as well enjoy it." she said and lead him out the room.

When they stepped out the portrait hole, Ron sighed in relief, maybe he did the right thing anyway, to keep whatever he feels for her at the moment. Besides, he wasn't exactly ready for changes between them. But surely, someday, he'll tell her, and who knows, when that day comes Hermione might like him back just as how he fancies her.

"Hey, 'Mione! Race you to the Great Hall.." he challenged.

For now, they'd be the best of friends.

"What?!" Hermione protested but Ron had already sped, "That's not fair, with your long legs, whose gonna win against you?!" she ran after, nevertheless. "Ron, stop! We're prefects! Running at the corridors is against school rules!!" still, she was following hastily.

**AN: **Also, I'd like to take this chance to tell everybody that I won't be posting HP fics under this account. I have a new one, exclusively for HP..i'm using BERDE as my pen name..i hope you can look up for it. Thanks!!! Well..i'm off now! Check my new fic, ayt?


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